Whispered Secrets by Elizabeth Lennox
Chapter 15
Desiree waited until the ugly blue pickup truck drove away. A pickup truck, she scoffed. Seriously? The always elegant, completely refined and reserved Oliver Fenton driving a pickup truck! Dear heaven, Desiree thought, shuddering with horror. How could he? The man had a beautiful Maserati and a Porsche. And he was driving around in a pathetic, rusty, old pickup. Ugh!
Tapping a finger on the steering wheel, she watched impatiently as the pickup drove down the street. Only when Oliver was well past the first stop light did she pull her beautiful BMW out of the church parking lot. It was the only place on this pathetic road that still had trees.
Driving down the road, she was grateful that it was early morning. She didn’t like being in this part of the city. It was filthy and there were people sleeping in doorways a block away. Desiree knew that it was a community center or something and she made a mental note to send a donation to the charity. It never hurt to have one’s name associated with places like that. Not that she’d ever enter the filthy place! Hell no!
Well, unless a reporter was doing a story about the community center! Desiree snickered, shaking her head at her hypocrisy. She didn’t care one whit. She was a survivor and no one was going to pull her down! She had been raised a winner and damn it, she wanted Oliver! That man was the ultimate prize and would show the world that she’d won!
So, if this little snot of a woman was going to encroach on her man, Desiree considered it her mission to take the bitch down!
Pulling into the apartment complex, Desiree parked her BMW in a space far away from the other beaten up, dubious forms of transportation, looking around as she stepped out to make sure that no one was looking at her precious car.
She blipped the security system on and walked down the pathway between the buildings, determined to figure out where this woman lived and have a little chat with the bitch trying to steal her man.
But when she stepped through to the courtyard, Desiree stopped, stunned by the beauty in front of her. The lush landscaping surrounded a quaint, beautifully built fire pit area, the inviting benches calling to her to take a seat and relax. It was…unexpected, given the harshness of the surrounding area.
Then she looked around a bit more. The interior courtyard of the buildings looked clean and freshly painted. The doors had a new coat of paint on them as well and…actually, the doors looked new! Good grief, she turned and looked back through the two buildings that formed a V and looked out to the parking lot again. Sure enough, the concrete jungle mixed with a tangle of electrical and telephone wires was still there.
But this courtyard…was beautiful! It was literally an oasis of beauty nestled within one of the worst parts of town.
Shaking off her surprise, she turned, her lips pressing into a determined expression once again. Glancing towards the entrance, she spotted the manager’s office. It looked like just another apartment, but the sign on the door announced that it was the manager’s space, so she stomped over to it. A sharp knock on the door didn’t result in anyone appearing in front of her. So she rapped again, harder this time.
“Can I help you?” someone asked from behind her.
Desiree spun around, startled to find her prey standing innocently on the sidewalk, her green eyes sparkling and…well, they were very pretty eyes, she thought. Desiree had only seen this woman from a distance and thought that she’d been…merely average. But up close, the woman really was quite lovely, in a soft, unsophisticated way.
Desiree sniffed. Oliver didn’t need this…woman. He didn’t need “pretty”. He needed gorgeous! And Desiree was that woman! She was the one who could help Oliver’s career. Not this…pipsqueak, upstart, irritatingly nice woman. No, “nice” simply wouldn’t do. Nice people were crushed in this town. The power hungry people who lived and worked in Washington DC scraped “nice” off of their shoe after stomping it into the ground!
Oliver needed someone stronger. More capable of taking on the power-hungry freaks that ruled this town.
“I’m Desiree Milken,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Oliver Fenton’s fiancée. And you are?” she asked, using that silky tone that she’d perfected over the years.
Obviously, her tone worked if the startled pain in the woman’s eyes was any indication.
Maggie stared up at the tall, elegantly beautiful woman. Her false eyelashes made her eyes look huge and the perfectly applied makeup gave the impression of movie-star glamour. Her hair was thick and lush, cascading over her shoulder in shimmering waves. She wasn’t wearing normal jeans ether. Nope, those were designer jeans that fit her painfully thin body like a glove. Her leather boots had four inch heels and the sweater was obviously cashmere. In other words, this woman came from money!
Maggie recognized the signs of money. She also recognized the signs of a lie. A mere two weeks ago, Jerry had come back into her life and announced that he was Maggie’s fiancé. A complete lie and Oliver had been furious until Maggie had explained.
This woman was obviously trying to do the same thing, but Maggie had grown to understand Oliver better over these past few weeks.
With that realization, Maggie’s pain subsided and she shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “No, you’re not,” Maggie replied, tilting her head slightly. The tightening of the woman’s lips confirmed her suspicions. “Oliver is a man of integrity.”
“You don’t think that Oliver and I–”
Maggie lifted a hand, stopping her lies. She was pulling on her past experience as a spoiled brat, which was exactly what this woman seemed to be. Maggie examined this Desiree Milken and wondered if she’d come across this arrogant and demeaning when she’d lived down in Texas. Probably, she sighed, accepting yet another facet of herself that she didn’t like.
Straightening her spine, she lifted her chin. That arrogant, pathetic, spoiled brat was in the past. She was better now. She was a stronger, kinder, more generous person!
“I believe that you and Oliver may have been engaged at some point,” she interrupted. The flash in the woman’s eyes conveyed Maggie was right on target. “But you’re not anymore. Which means you’re here to cause problems. Why?”
The woman breathed in slowly, her eyes glaring daggers at Maggie.
“You’re not right for Oliver,” Desiree snapped. “Oliver needs someone by his side who can help him. Someone who can further his career and ensure that he meets the right people.”
Maggie bristled at that assertion. “Since coming here, I’ve helped Oliver,” she stated firmly. “Oliver was down on his luck and sinking fast. I gave him a place to live and…”
The woman’s harsh laughter stopped Maggie’s defense. “You think that Oliver lives here?” she sneered, gesturing to the quaint, but small, apartments. “Oh, honey!” The woman’s condescending tone and shake of her head warned Maggie that she wasn’t going to like what she said next. “You have no idea who Oliver Fenton is, do you?”
“I know Oliver,” Maggie said firmly. “He’s a good man. And he’s strong.”
A snort told Maggie that something was definitely amiss. “Yeah,” she said, nodding her head. “He’s strong. And powerful. But he doesn’t live here,” she continued with another snort. “Oliver Fenton is the CEO of Fenton Companies. He’s the CEO of a freaking empire! Plus, he comes from a wealthy, powerful family!”
Maggie heard the words, but it took her a moment to process them. Oliver was…a CEO? But how could that be? He’d been looking for a place to sleep in an abandoned building! His dirty clothes, the scruff of his beard! She’d seen the signs before. Oliver had been struggling!
“Furthermore, Oliver lives in a beautiful penthouse that looks out over the city, right on the edge of the Potomac River.” The woman looked pointedly around, shaking her head sadly. “No, Oliver might be slumming around here, but that’s only because he has a plan. He’s working an angle and…” she froze and frowned. Obviously, she’d just figured something out and her face paled dramatically beneath the expertly applied makeup.
Desiree nervously gripped the strap of her expensive, leather purse and almost tripped over her feet as she turned towards the exit. “I have to go,” she mumbled, already striding away.
Maggie watched bemused, as the woman practically ran to her car. Now she was thoroughly confused. What in the world had caused this malicious woman to just run off like that?
Maggie replayed the conversation in her mind. “Slumming?” she whispered, hurt that the woman would refer to her precious, beautiful community as a slum! And a CEO? “Oliver is a construction worker!” she muttered emphatically, turning to look at his apartment. They’d spent a great deal of time over the past week finalizing the details in his apartment.
Granted, she hadn’t asked Oliver to sign a lease agreement. If she had, Maggie might have gotten his employment information. And his last name. And maybe his salary information. Good grief, had she been a complete idiot?!
“I didn’t want to embarrass him,” she whispered as her only defense, ducking her head. But deep down inside, in her heart and in her brain, Maggie had sort of suspected that Oliver was more than what he seemed. Was he really a wealthy businessman? Or was he the down-on-his-luck construction worker, looking for a place to live?
Thinking back to that morning, Maggie remembered thinking how strong he clearly was. She’d been right. Maggie was intimately aware of Oliver’s strength. So if he’d been homeless, how had he honed those muscles?
She walked over to one of the benches, but couldn’t focus enough to sit down, her mind reeling. Thinking back, there had been clues. The new soccer balls and soccer equipment. Had it all really been a gift from his employer? Or had Oliver simply gone out and bought the equipment himself?
Then there were the ice cream bars after the final game. And all of the supplies for the renovation he’d done in his apartment. The tiles, the fancy faucet, the flooring…those things weren’t cheap!
And that hurt! Goodness, it hurt a lot. She loved Oliver. But who did she really love? The man she thought he was? And who was that, really?
“Maggie?” Molly called out walking down the stairs from her apartment. But when Molly spotted Maggie, her friend rushed over and grabbed Maggie under the arm. “What’s wrong? What just happened? Did that woman say something to upset you?” Molly breathed in and shook her head. “What am I saying? Obviously, she did. Sorry, that was a ridiculous question.” She led Maggie over to one of the benches. “Okay, sit down and tell me what happened.”
Maggie looked around, still stunned from the news. “Umm….she said something about being Oliver’s fiancé at first, but,” her hand flew to cover her mouth and Maggie breathed in slowly, trying to steady her nerves. “She lied. I know she lied about that.”
Molly snorted. “Of course she lied. Oliver wouldn’t be with you if he was engaged. That’s a fact!”
Maggie nodded, a sort of numbness taking the place of the waves of pain. “Yeah. That’s almost exactly what I told her. Then she admitted that they had been engaged and would be again. She said Oliver needed a wife that…” she closed her eyes, swallowing hard past the lump in her throat. “Well, she said that Oliver needed a wife that could handle his lifestyle.”
Another inelegant snort. “You can definitely handle Oliver’s lifestyle. Good grief, just look at how you two brought the girls’ soccer team into first place last week! The girls came in last in the spring tournament.”
Maggie closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead slightly. “Yeah. He’s a great coach.” She realized what she’d just said, another piece of the puzzle falling into place. Another clue that Maggie had ignored! “He’s a good leader. He’s a natural leader.”
Molly nodded firmly. “Exactly. You’d thought he was in the military. Maybe he was an officer?”
Maggie cringed visibly at the reminder of how badly she’d misread the situation. “Can I see your phone?” she asked.
Molly immediately dug it out and handed it over. Maggie did a Google search. Sure enough, as soon as she typed in the name “Oliver Fenton”, Oliver’s wonderful, handsome face popped up. And underneath that wonderful face was the name, “Oliver Fenton, CEO of Fenton Companies, a Global Property Development Firm headquartered in Washington, D.C.”
“Wow!” Molly whispered, reading over Maggie’s shoulders. “He looks hot in a suit!”
Molly was right, but what did that mean? Why had Oliver been looking around next door in the empty apartments? Maggie had assumed Oliver had been searching for a place to shelter overnight. But what if there was more to it than that? What if Oliver…! An icy sensation settled into the pit of her stomach.
“I need to go,” Maggie whispered, returning the phone.
“Where are you going?” Molly asked, shoving the phone back into her pocket and standing up as Maggie raced across the courtyard to her apartment. She didn’t reply, but simply pushed through the door, grabbed her purse and car keys, then ran to her beat up old sedan.
She drove for a few minutes in stupid, stunned silence, but then Maggie knew what she had to do. Pulling over into a grocery store parking lot, she pulled up the address for Fenton Companies. With dread, Maggie put the address into her GPS app. The building was only four miles away!
